


But I do love thee, and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again

by 1000lux



Category: Stage Beauty (2004)
Genre: M/M, Post Movie, alternate ending so to speak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000lux/pseuds/1000lux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Villiers tries to get Ned back after the finale of the movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Othello

Ned still has the make-up on his face. The masses outside are still roaring with applause. But he's managed to sneak backstage, of course.

"You were amazing."

A cocked eyebrow.

"I hadn't thought you'd like the role." Ned's played so many by now. Finding himself anew, defining himself anew, each time. But he always comes back to that one. His first.

George wipes off some of the black make-up with his thumb. Ned backs away from his touch.

"What now, Duke?" He smiles at him daringly and maybe a little disgusted. George feels the sting of that look. Now he knows what it feels like to be dismissed just like that.

****

"Hey, my love." He leans in and kisses her softly on the lips. She returns the touch, her hands brushing over his neck and hair.

"I'm really astounded your boyfriend lets you roam like that," he mock reprimands her, "Maybe I should have a talk with him."

"He knows we're just friends. Unlike you he has complete faith in my chaste nature." Maria smirks at him.

Just friends. No they're far more than that. Much more than they could ever even try to describe to the rest of the world. One of many things, they were lovers once. But what they feel runs deeper than that. They have a raw connection to each other, that could never be shared with anyone else. They share the same soul, the same need, that sometimes makes them stay on stage till the morning hours, not sleeping, not eating, just working, eyes glazed over with zeal, until the moment is perfect.

****

"Mr. Kynaston! Mr. Kynaston!" Admirers and aspiring young actors alike blend into a coloful multitude of faces and waving hands, parting only where Ned is currently walking.

Villiers isn't among them. He's come early and watches Ned cater to his believers. He's been to every single one of Ned's performances, yet Ned manages to evade him every time, not even bothering to be subtle about it. Whether he joins Nell Gwynn at the following supper with the King or  
just dives into the ecstatic audience, he vanishes from George's grasp.

It takes him long enough to come upstairs. Villiers isn't used to waiting. When Ned sees him the only visible change in his demeanor is the raising of an eyebrow.

"If you're applying for a position you should get in line outside. Or are you trying to steal something?"

"Indeed, I might be." He comes closer, about to take Ned up on his last proposal. 

Before their lips touch, Ned elegantly swerves to the side. 

So, he read the signs wrong. But if he's expected a scene he's been wrong again.

Ned just laughs at him. Making him feel like the fool he probably is, and more and more starts to feel like. It was a mistake to come here tonight. Like it has been every night.

"Did you think you could have me back? Like that?" Ned looks even quite good-naturedly when he says it, like it's just a little too ridiculous to be mad about it. "What would you like me to wear? Blond curls? A cascade of silky black? Ophelia? Cleopatra? Or even better, the classic, Desdemona." He moves closer, tantalizingly, his breath washing over Villiers' face, his hand brushing along his jawline, his shoulders.

****

They see each other a lot now. Ned doesn't need him anylonger to take him to court. He and that woman are celebrated right now, there's hardly a party they wouldn't get into, even if it wasn't for their friendship with the notorious Miss Nell.

****

"I can't live without you!"

"Aren't you being a little melodramatic, George. Wasn't it you who was so afraid of a big scene?" Ned's smile is predatory, gone is all warmth, love, longing whatever he had felt, back then when he'd still had him.

"Tell me what I can do to make it up to you! Is there something you would like to have? A higher percentage of the theater? Your own company? Whatever!"

"I may have been many things. But I've never been your whore." He doesn't get loud. He says it in the calm warm voice he used to speak to him about his dreams and fears, when they lay entangled in each other, "Go home, George. Go to back to your life, your position."

It is probably madness, but the resentment in Ned's voice makes him hope again, that there are still some of the old feelings left. He surges forward, pressing Ned against the wall, their lips after so many months finally touching again. 

Ned doesn't yield to his touch, just the opposite. But he only buries his hands deeper in his hair. Where Ned's body is denying, his mouth is open. 

Can't Ned feel that this is right? That this is how they are supposed to be. He has made a mistake, but doesn't everyone?

The kiss continues. For long? He isn't sure. His head is spinning. With something he thought he could live without. He mixed up necessity with luxury. 

Someone opens the door. Villiers quickly lets go of Ned. A knowing smile moves over Ned's face, like he's just made his point. When Ned moves past him, to leave the room, he pauses for a moment, one hand resting on his shoulder. Just a few words spoken with amused finality.

"You showed me exactly where my place was. And I have no desire to return there."

Then he is alone in the room. Whoever had been at the door has retreated again. And Villiers is left in what is actually Ned's dressing room, feeling pinpointedly, completely out of place. For a second he wonders, if it wouldn't have been more appropriate if he had been the one to leave. The last time it was also Ned who left, though he had been the one to end it. He had, hadn't he? Always too lazy, too spoiled to even take a step? Too used to everyone jumping to his call.

He isn't that cold, really. He hadn't meant to abandon him that radically. What he had meant... He had meant to save his own hide. Avoid any awkward situation that could prove inconvenient to his position.

He had meant to see Ned that night. He had some sleuth looking for him, when he'd so completely vanished from the face of the earth. One night he'd gone to that run-down shithole, where he was supposed to work now. But that woman had been faster. She'd sunken her claws into him, dragging him to safety. Out of his reach.

And when he returned, he was shining more blindingly than ever before. Who is he to approach him now?


	2. Macbeth

It's another party at court. Ned is already there when Villiers arrives. He's deeply in conversation with Sedley. Considering that Sedley was behind the assault on Ned, George feels that it's a deep injustice, that Sedley's been forgiven, when he hasn't been.

It's like Ned's sensed his arrival. Immediately his gaze goes up and he shoots him a dazzling smile.

"Your Grace." He bows, every single muscle mocking the gesture just as much as the words.

****

"Isn't it time you returned to your husband, Mrs. Williams?"

Ned encircles her with his arms from behind, resting his hands on her hips as his chin on her shoulder.

"Not yet." She reprimands him, blushing a little, obviously not referring to her departure.

"The oaf still hasn't proposed to you yet? You want me to have a talk with him?"

"Christ, the answer is still no!" She wriggles out of his grasp, laughing incredelously. "He'd probably fall in love with you!"

Ned just laughs. Maria finally gets ready to leave.

"You're staying much longer?" she asks.

"Not much. What, you're afraid I'm going to get assaulted on my way back home, all by myself?" He enacts a fainting lady, furiously wriggling a fan.

Maria rolls her eyes and takes her leave.

Ned repeats a few more positions for tomorrow's performance. He knows it all like the parts of his body, nevertheless he can't help working on it to the last minute. He strifes towards enchanting the audience everytime again, even those who have already seen his and Maria's Othello. He manages to bedazzle the audience everytime anew. And so will his Macbeth tomorrow (Even though he always preferred to play Lady Macbeth). Those who claimed he was the best when he still played women, say he even bested those performances, those who didn't like him, praise his outstanding performance every night. But staying the best, means constant work.

He sits down on the big bed on stage. In his mind he goes through the different scenes, imagining every actor at his position. The blanket rustles behind him and a figure emerges. Ned nearly jumps in shock, spiralling around towards the intruder. In hand only the fake dagger with which tomorrow King Duncan will be killed yet again.

"Shit, you startled me! What are you doing here?" He looks at the Duke of Villiers with outrage.

"How else am I supposed to see you?"

"I see now that the problem wasn't me being a man but me being no longer famous." Ned smiles acidly. "You've been quite persistent since I've returned to the stage."

"That's not true and you know it," Villiers insists. Even though how would he know, Villiers wonders, when every single action of his spoke of the opposite. But he must know, when Ned is the person who knows him best in the whole world. "I thought I could turn away from you, but I couldn't! There was never a time when I didn't want you." Softer now, beseeching. "Even when I saw you in that dirty shithole."

Ned freezes. "You saw me?" he whispers.

Villiers doesn't know if it's shock or disbelief, but he considers that it's been a mistake this piece of information has slipped out. 

Ned's voice raises, "You saw me there! You saw me and you didn't do a thing!!" His hands push Villiers away.

"I was going to!" Villiers tries to justify. Because, he was. He was going to.

"You already called me a whore and now you're going to call me an idiot?!" The bitterness and utter lack of believe in Ned's face hurt to look at. It reminds Villiers again what he did. As if he didn't already know. As if he didn't already regret.

"Would you just listen to me?!" Villiers yells, yanking Ned back to the bed, when he attempts to leave.

"No! I will not. I'm sick and tired of your excuses. Now let go of me." 

He doesn't. Ned punches him in the face, hard.

"Do you think I'm a damsel?" Suddenly Ned's on top of him. "Do you think you can yank me around, you arrogant fuck?!"

Ned starts punching him again, giving free reign to all the pent up anger, until Villiers hits back, only to stop stricken.

"Ned, I'm sorry." 

"Don't apologize!" Ned yells even angrier. "I'm a man! You listen! I won't break! A man! You hear me?!"

"I know." Villiers' voice is soft in contrast. "I know. I always did."

The next thing he says surprises Ned.

"You can fuck me, Ned."

"Maybe I don't want to," Ned says, his eyes dark and clouded. Villiers already prepares mentally to make his exit, admitting defeat, at least for tonight. "Maybe I want you to fuck me," Ned then continues. And suddenly he's on top of Villiers again and they both fall back onto the bed.

 

They still lie there afterwards, neither moving. They would spent hours on this bed, before. Villiers had every centimeter of Ned's body mapped out, the lines of his face, just as the muscles under his skin. They would lie here in the only true peace Villiers had known in his life. Now they lie here in a precarious silence that could end in either hope or destruction. Villiers dares to interlace their fingers. Ned doesn't move away. But he starts speaking then. In that soft, calm and asking voice in which he would share his thoughts with him.

"Did you... did you never even think about what... how I was doing? Did you never even...?" There's vulnerability in his voice this time and a deep inherent sadness. "If you knew I was there...?"

Villiers knows he can only answer with the truth here. Only with the truth that shows exactly what kind of a debased and self-absorbed person he is. The truth is maybe the only thing that can save him now.

"I thought I had time," He says. And then, what he's said so often and still doesn't even begin to cover what has been said and done between the two of them. "I'm sorry, Ned. I'm so sorry." No I love you's, no matter how heartfelt. They're too shallow for this, they lack, like everything about Villiers is and always has been lacking and shallow.

"No need to. If you don't care you don't care," Ned says with bitter satisfaction, like it's a victory he can take no pleasure in.

Ned gets up and leaves, picks up his clothes where they're shattered across the floor and walks away. Pale skin against the dark stage. A perfect apparition like from a different world, walking away from him in a simile of the direction their relationship is heading at. This time Villiers doesn't try to stop him.

****

"I slept with Villiers again." Ned breaks the news as shortly as possible, crashing down at the table where Nell and Maria are just having breakfast.

"Why on God's earth did you do that?!" Maria gapes at him at the same time as Nell starts clapping her hands in excitement.

"Oh, fabulous! We were getting worried. Charlie and I that is. Maria still thinks he's awful."

"The king knows about this?!" Ned deeply regrets now the amount of acohol he consumed after he woke up this morning.

"Oh, was it a secret?" Nell looks a little bit contrite now.

"You're beside the point, Nell!" Maria interrupts her, looking at Ned with dark, stormy eyes. "Have you lost your mind? Do you want to go through that again? Because I won't be the one dragging you out of seedy bars."

"That wasn't because of him."

"Not exclusively." Maria says piercingly and even Nell looks a little scared.

"It was a mistake. I was drunk. Nostalgic." Ned rakes a hand through his hair. "It was such an incredibly, incredibly stupid mistake." He buries his face in his hands.

Meanwhile Nell pushes a plate of ham and eggs towards him, smiling supportively.

****

The problem is, that despite the horrible betrayal and the weeks of utter despair and ever growing rage, he still loves that man. Always did. Different than Maria. But, then Maria is something entirely different. Him and George that had been one of the most base and simple feelings in the world. One of the most beautiful. There everything had been need and elation. Belonging.

The days when everything was still as it should have been. Hidden jokes and glances thrown at each other inmidst oblivious party guests. They would laugh so much with each other. Villiers had always complained how he didn't want to be seen with him in public, but in the end he had obliged, every single time, had wanted him there. There was no mistaking that look on his face when he'd spotted Ned in the midst of nobles and genteel. How he'd make his way to him immediately, cutting short whatever conversations he'd just had.

It was just the two of them.

And the nights, the nights where they lingered in a state between the worlds. When he'd told him so often that there was no one else for him. And Ned has told himself over and over again, especially in those first nights of dragging around his bruised body and bruised mind, had told himself then, tells himself now, that George didn't mean any of it, doesn't mean it now. How else is it to explain that he came only back after Ned was back in the limelight, after people were falling at his feet again, competing for his attention. And Ned could have anyone he wants now. A woman. A man. One of each. Many of them. And still, he wants the dirty traitor who destroyed him further when he was already on the ground. All of that he knows, and still he wants him. Wants to go back. Wants to trust again. But knows that he won't be able to sustain another fall.  
The hurt pride in him still strong where his common sense yielded already, still strong enough to douse the part of him that was screaming in his ear even when he wore drag, cheap make-up and desperation, that part that still would do anything just to be his Desdemona again.

****

He's beautiful. Wonderful. Living every inch the person of Macbeth. He is all of it. The strength. The weakness. The doubt. The blindness to his errors. He lives him, like he's lived all of his characters before.

It outshines everyone else on stage. Be is Ms. Hughes or the hard-trying impersonator of Macduff. He sucks the light out of the the room, out of everyone, until he's the only one radiating.

Villiers hears the gasps and outcries that go through the audience at every single of Ned's purposeful moves. Their eyes are all trained on him, so no one pays any mind to Villiers. His eyes are also only trained on Ned, but if someone were looking they'd probably be able to see more than Villiers was ever willing to show.

****

"Mr. Kynaston! So good of you to come!" The King waves him in enthusiastically.

"Your Majesty." Being informed of the king's intricate knowledge on the state of Ned's relationships doesn't exactly help to make things any less awkward.

"Mrs. Hughes couldn't join us tonight? That's a shame. Why, do sit down. George, old chap, come on in."

Villiers sits on the other side of Ned, listening to his conversation with Sedley, that at the same time functions to ignore him and shows vividly what a comfortable rapport those two have with each other. He's not sure what the conversation is about but it seems to be a well known joke shared between the two of them.

"And all because I thought you were a whore and grabbed your cock."

Ned laughs heartily, looking relaxed and at ease.

 

"Let me take you home." Villiers takes Ned by the ellbow.

"No, thanks. I'm good."

"It's late, the streets aren't save."

"Far too kind," Ned replies, obviously meaning 'Fuck you'. "I can take care of myself. Or have you heard about a planned attack on me?" He asks this with a pleasant smile and a curious expression that does nothing to conceal the bite.

"That wasn't me back then! That was Sedley, your new best chum! Why don't you ask him? You see so much of each other anyway! Are you maybe fucking him?!"

"You're such an asshole, George." Ned says in a low voice. "No, I'm not. Are you?"

"I'll take you home." Sedley says.

"Much obliged." Ned follows him without hesitation, a meaningful look thrown at George.

 

"Why don't you forgive him, if you like him this much?" Sedley asks him, in the coach.

"I don't like him. Not anymore." 

"I might have mistaken you for a whore, but I am not, as matter of fact, blind."

"First an art critic and now I'm also getting relationship advice. How lucky am I?"

****

Only two days later, Ned is painfully reminded how easy it is to fall. In this case face first onto the pavement in a quite frighteningly close reenactment of the moment he'd reached his personal rock bottom.

Villiers finds him after the attack, had followed him after the performance. Curses now the delay in which he'd followed for discretion's sake, as he finds Ned on the dirty street, face bloody, gingerly lifting himself of the ground.

"Did you do this?!" Ned asks, seething, when he sees him. "So you can play the gallant knight? Or maybe to get back at me?"

"What are you talking about?! I had nothing to do with this! Not the first time, not now!" He tries to help Ned further to his feet, but his attempt is rebuffed, something feral in Ned's eyes.

"So–" Ned groans in pain, but is finally on his two feet again. "So, I am to believe you happened to come by here by mere coincidence?!"

Villiers swallows. "I follow you most of the nights after your performances. I had hoped to catch a word with you."

Ned snorts, limping away from Villiers without another word.

"Let me take you home! For Christ's sake! You're in no state to walk home!"

Ned only waves with one grazed hand. "I'd rather get mugged again."

He let's Villiers take him home after all. They don't talk during the coach ride. They don't talk when Villiers patches him up, cleans the wounds with gentle hands. And deep down Ned knows it wasn't Villiers. That has never been his style. He's never had enough interest in anyone to take to such petty devices. By God, Ned knows he has enough enemies now, who begrudge him his success, could name one for each of his luckily not broken fingers.

It is when Villiers holds a handkerchief to his bleeding lip, throwing furtive glances towards the door, as if he's not sure if he should go, but finding tasks for himself to prolong his stay. Ned feels beaten-up and exhausted, too much reminded of the night not long enough ago, to condemn himself to spend it alone, when this time he could have someone with him, could have the one with him he had wanted back then. He reaches forward, wrapping his arms around Villiers neck and pulling him close, uncaring of the pain as he brings their lips together.

****

"What happened to you?!" Nell all but screeches, while Maria just goes white.

"I won't be playing anytime in the near future," he says, the forced smile pulling at his only just healing lip.

"Who did this?!" She demands. Ned only shrugs. "I bet it was that haughty bastard who plays Macduff." Violence glints in her eyes. "Charlie will hear of this, I can assure you!"

Ned only sighs and sits down. Maria sits down beside him and runs a gentle hand over his bruised face.

"So," Ned starts, because he seems to compulsively share every detail of his life with these two women. "turns out I made another mistake."

"Villiers?"

****

It's another revival of Othello, at the personal behest of the king. The theatre is full, despite everyone having seen the play before. Not as often as one person in the audience though. Ned is acutely aware of Villiers' eyes following his every move on stage. It shouldn't be news. Everyone does. Villiers always did. But when he's been detached enough these last months, he's lost his resolve again. He doesn't want him to be here. This play is his and Maria's only.

 

Ned corners him after the play, having had enough of this. Having had enough of his peace being disturbed now that everything in his life is better than it has been ever before.

"What do you want here?!" he challenges. "You know the fucking play! You probably know it by heart by now!"

Ned is fierce and angry, his face still black from the guise of the moor.

"You've never before been more beautiful than that day on the stage when you first did Othello," Villiers says.

"So thought you and everyone else who watched me." Ned replies unimpressed.

"I love you."

Ned only nods as if he's been waiting for this. "What if I'd fall from grace again? You'd be gone. You don't love me. You love my fame. You love what I stand for. Never me."

"Never again, I swear!" Villiers grabs his hand that's cold, hard and unyielding against his touch. "Give me this chance. Give me just this one chance and I swear I won't forsake you again."

He sees part of his own desperation mirrored in Ned's face. Emotion that all the black grease can't hide. So they stand there, a mental tug-of-war. Ned has no reason to believe him, honestly. Villiers wouldn't believe himself. But something in the night of the attack tells him that he still might have a chance to get the better of Ned's judgement. That there's still hope for a man who doesn't deserve hope but craves for it nonetheless.

"You hurt me!" Ned finally says exhausted. "Every single time you show up, you destroy whatever peace I've reclaimed for myself. This is just a game to you, a conquest. So, consider yourself the victor. You won, you got into my head again, under my skin. Now, please, just leave me alone."

Villiers doesn't go though. He steps closer. "But this is not a game," he says, a smile finally showing up on his face again. He kisses him. And this time Ned doesn't push him away, doesn't evade. His rigid stance, ready for a fight, leaves. Body pliant, exhausted.

Not a game. An act it had been back then. Villiers hiding what he truly felt from his own eyes, pretending he didn't mean all things he said. Pretending it wasn't the truth when he told Ned he couldn't be without him. But once the curtain had fallen he couldn't pretend anylonger that he was anything but a man. A man who's in love.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment!


End file.
